Ball of Dreams
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: "Hermione was gazing at him as if she had never seen him before. There was a palpable pink to her cheeks. Her face grew only more flushed as she glanced away. She even started... fanning herself a little. Unconsciously, it appeared. "Gracious," she breathed quietly. "What would I want to go with you for?"" What if Ron had manned up and asked Hermione to the Yule Ball? Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: I Know You're a Girl

**Chapter 1: I Know You're a Girl**

Ron Weasley bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, the entryway before him almost taunting him. He could feel a thin sheen of perspiration gathering on his brow and dripping down towards his eyes. He had been standing in front of the Hogwarts library for a good ten minutes, and still had not found the bollocks to go in.

 _I shouldn't be feeling this nervous_ , he told himself. _It's just Hermione. I've come in here to see her loads of times before. Granted, those times were mostly with Harry, but... no, focus, Weasley._

Ever since Professor McGonagall had announced the Yule Ball, a crazy idea had fallen into Ron's head and refused to leave him alone. Yes, he, Ron, had gotten it into his mind that he should ask Hermione Granger, his best friend, to the Yule Ball. He had thought of close to nothing else for a week. He had even made the attempt to pop the question ( _no, stop it, you git! You're asking her to the Ball, not asking to her to marry you!_ ) a few times when he and Hermione were alone, but someone had always interrupted them. The latest incident had been in the Gryffindor Common Room, at night, in front of the fireplace... but just as he was speaking, Harry had to walk in right then. To which Ron had responded by thrusting his best guy mate into the Common Room lavatory and beating him right upside the head, much to Hermione's confusion.

 _What if someone has already asked her?_ This thought was effective in making Ron panic enough to actually enter the library.

He found Hermione at her usual table, poured over books about house elves for her initiative S.P.E.W. With her bushy brown hair framing her heart-shaped face, she looked positively beautiful. Ron felt his pants tighten in a way that they had for at least the last year whenever he looked at his best friend. Taking a deep breath, he approached the table and sat across from her.

Hermione didn't notice him at first, so he cleared his throat. Glancing up from her parchment, she grinned. "Oh, hello, Ron!"

"Hey, Hermione," Ron got out, his heart beating faster. He was about to ask the question, but a different one came out instead. "Have you talked to Harry lately?"

"I checked in with him this morning," she reported gently. "He's stressed. About the Third Task. But even more so about getting a date for the Yule Ball..."

Ron seized on the thread. "Say... while I'm thinking on it... how about going to the Ball with me?"

He kicked himself. He had been so desperate to get it out, he hadn't realized how unwieldy his phrasing sounded until it was too late. With trepidation, he raised his eyes to hers.

Hermione was gazing at him as if she had never seen him before. There was a palpable pink to her cheeks. Her face grew only more flushed as she glanced away. She even started... fanning herself a little. Unconsciously, it appeared.

"Gracious," she breathed quietly. "What would I want to go with you for?"

Were it not for her clearly flustered state, her question would have stung more than it otherwise did. Encouraged a little, Ron parried back. "Well... can you think of some reason why you might?"

A small silence. Hermione shakingly stood and turned away so Ron wouldn't see her blushing, wouldn't see the smile creeping onto her face. "Can't think of anything right now..."

"Hermione." Ron's voice was so gentle, she turned back, just in time to see him transfigure some Galleons from his pocket into a bouquet of roses, and kneel at her feet. Hermione gasped, both hands going to her mouth in astonishment. This had to be a dream - a wonderful dream from which she never wanted to wake up. Who was this young man who looked like Ron, and yet was so sensitive and sweet? Sure, he could be sensitive and sweet when he wanted to be, but _this_... "Please, love. Go to the Ball with me? I don't know what I'm gonna do if you don't."

 _Did... did he just call me 'love'?_ Hermione pondered, certain she had misheard, misheard everything from his first clumsy proposal on. She nearly swooned, and fanned herself again. Ron held out the bouquet of roses to her, and she gingerly took them, smelled them. Then, little by little, she beamed.

"Ron... Why, I'll go with you - if you want me to!"

"I do!" Ron grinned, leaping to his feet, and hugging her before his fear got in the way. "Brilliant! I reckon I'll have to get some dress robes. And tell Harry! See you later?"

Biting back a smile, Hermione nodded. And she watched, her heart floating somewhere in the clouds, as Ron raced out of the library. Just beyond the doors, she heard him whoop in victory.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of her study desk in the library, still fingering each and every flower, every petal, in the bouquet of roses. Needless to say, she was pleased. Her head was spinning. Ron, her best friend and her secret crush since she was a little girl, had plucked up the courage to ask her to the Yule Ball! And he had done so in a very creative way. Had he known that roses were her favorite flower? He must have! So far, most boys who asked a girl to the Yule Ball had simply asked the question - no more, no less. At least, from what Hermione had seen. It felt nice to be thought of, and to have been asked: up until five minutes ago, Hermione had not expected for anyone to ask her, let alone go at all. And certainly not on the arm of the man with whom she was in love. Yes, she was in love with Ron – she had recently come to accept it, had stopped denying her feelings.

Hermione had been so lost in thought that she did not hear the tall figure coming up behind her. "Vhat are you thinking about?"

Hermione nearly screamed, startled as she spun about, hiding the bouquet of roses behind her back and from the view of Viktor Krum, the Triwizard competitor. "Um... hello, Viktor," she stammered nervously.

Strangely enough, Viktor seemed to be on edge himself. "If I may be so bold, I vould like to give you a proposition."

Hermione's brow crinkled in amusement. She rather liked the way he talked, his accent. In a way, it was cute. "Yes?"

"Vould you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?" And Viktor took Hermione's hand and kissed it.

Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath. Viktor Krum, the hero of this year's Quidditch World Cup, had just asked her to the Yule Ball! Yes, she was aware that he had noticed her, been eyeing her. And she had been surprised and flattered that she was his object of preciousness in the Second Task.

"I have been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to you, but have never been able to pluck up the courage," Krum explained, actually looking shy.

She found herself seriously considering his offer. Let all the other girls who chased after him and clearly disdained her become all tied into knots over her being a champion's date! She glanced down at her hand still in Viktor's and then shifted her eyes back to the concealed bouquet of roses behind her.

 _But I'd be betraying Ron... I don't want to hurt Ron..._

Hermione made her decision. Turning back to Viktor, she smiled sympathetically. "Oh, Viktor, I feel so honored, but... somebody has already asked me, and I promised I would go with him. I'm really sorry."

Hermione hated to see the crushed look on Viktor's face. His expression made it appear that he was not used to rejection, or hearing "No" at all. He quickly regained a semblance of composure and said, "This fellow of yours is very lucky, then. Enjoy the ball, Miss..."

"Hermione," Hermione smiled.

"Hermy-own," Viktor mangled. Hermione ignored the mispronunciation as Viktor slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2: Ball of Dreams

**Chapter 2: Ball of Dreams**

Christmas night arrived before anyone in the castle knew it. Harry had been shocked and positively elated to find out that Ron had done it - he had asked Hermione to the Yule Ball! Now, he just had to find a date. Ron turned out to be very helpful with that, advising his best friend to just do it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Impulsively, Harry asked Pavarti Patil to the Ball, but only after his crush, Cho Chang, had turned him down.

Now, in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron fussed with his tie as he and Harry waited for their dates to emerge from the girls' dormitories. Ron had been horrified to open the care package sent from home, only to discover that he had been given his Great-Aunt Tessie's dress robes. They were ancient! Hand-me-downs passed through each and every Weasley man.

"Murder me, Harry," Ron moaned. "She's going to think I look ridiculous!"

"Mate, you could be wearing nothing at all - right starkers, and Hermione would _still_ think you look handsome!" Harry laughed. Though he himself was wrestling with the ruffles of his collar. The Chosen One stopped short when Pavarti Patil appeared on the stair, in a purple gown.

"Shall we go down, then, Harry?" she smiled at him.

Harry suddenly appeared very nervous, and looked like he wanted to stay by Ron's side, but Ron waved him off. "Just go. Hermione and I will catch up."

Harry nodded, and offered Pavarti his arm. They were scarcely gone three minutes when Ron turned back to the stairs... and his jaw dropped.

An angel was descending the staircase from the girls' dormitories. Hermione was clothed in a bright pink dress. Her hair was sleek and shiny, pulled up into a bun. Her ballgown accentuated just enough cleavage to make Ron's mouth go very dry. He felt weak in the knees.

Hermione stopped feet from him. She noticed how Ron was staring at her, and distracted her attention by fixing the bow-tie around his neck, her smile warm and gentle.

"You look very handsome, Ronald," she complimented. And she meant it.

Ron's face went as red as his hair. "Hand-me-downs," he mumbled self-deprecatingly. "You look... glorious."

Hermione's breath hitched, and she ducked her head, blushing furiously. "Thank you," she beamed nervously.

Ron suddenly straightened and appeared very formal. "Shall we?" He offered Hermione his arm, and she shyly took it. The pair left the Common Room, and descended down the majestic staircase into the Great Hall. Right away, Ron noticed that Hermione was turning quite a few heads, and he allowed himself to bask in the glow of her. Seeing that the heads belonged to a fair number of boys, he could not resist pulling Hermione closer, almost a little possessively. Hermione didn't seem to mind.

The four Triwizard champions were standing in paired lines before the entrance to the Great Hall, McGonagall at their head. Harry was second beside Pavarti, behind Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. Ron and Hermione's best mate looked like he was staring daggers into the back of Diggory's head.

"Pavarti only just mentioned tonight that she was going with Harry," Hermione whispered to her date breathlessly. "How did that happen?"

Ron smirked, already enjoying his time with her. "Spur-of-the-moment. I gave Harry the advice that he should do it quickly."

Hermione gawked, amused. " _You_? Give Harry advice?"

"I can be wise when I want to be. Just don't tell anybody," Ron chuckled. "It could ruin my whole reputation."

"Ah. Well, we can't have that," Hermione teased. He felt a jolt of electricity go through his hand as she squeezed it. "Thank you for asking me. That took great courage. The bouquet is in a vase in my room. I preserved it with magic."

Ron nearly tripped. "Really?"

Hermione smirked. "Always the tone of surprise." In truth, she would preserve the bouquet forever, so that it never wilted - a symbol for how her love for Ron would never wilt.

The Champions led everyone into the Great Hall, and led off the first dance. Ron did his best to lift Hermione and spin her on some of the more lively waltzes. For her part, Hermione felt like she was hovering above the dance floor and would never come down again.

The Weird Sisters' set list greatly varied, and when the first slow song came on, Hermione took the initiative, bravely draping her arms lazily about Ron's neck. Ron nervously encircled his arms about Hermione's waist and pulled her closer, hoping she could not feel the beating of his heart. Hermione sent him a gentle smile to tell him just how much fun she was having. As the music swelled, she dared to rest her head on Ron's chest. She could feel his heart rate relax a little, until it was steady.

Ron, meanwhile, was gazing down at Hermione almost in shock. He still could not believe that she was in his arms, let alone so content that she would rest herself against him. Her eyes were blissfully closed, and a small smile graced her pink lips. _I must make her feel very safe_ , he thought, and puffed his chest out with pride. He spied Harry and Pavarti sitting off to one side at a table, and his best mate beamed and gave him a thumbs-up encouragingly. "Good on ya, mate!" he thought he heard Harry call over the din.

The euphoria was quickly dimmed as Ron's gaze caught another pair of eyes. Viktor Krum was dancing with his date, Lavender Brown, but completely ignoring her in favor of sending a death glare straight at the young Weasley.

"What the bloody hell is his problem?" Ron wondered aloud.

"Hmm?" Hermione hummed dreamily. "Who?"

"Viktor Krum. He looks like he wants to murder me and toss my body into the bloody Black Lake."

"Don't swear, Ronald," but Hermione's chastisement was automatic, half-hearted. Oddly, Ron felt Hermione stiffen against him just a little, and even shift her head from his chest to glance back at where Krum was still keeping the couple in his sights. She bit her lip. "Don't know," she fibbed, and nestled herself closer against Ron, wanting to feel safe and warm again. "Just hold me. And don't think about it."

And with those words, Ron let Viktor fall completely out of his head.

All too soon, the last call was announced. Ron and Hermione danced to it, lost in each other, and only vaguely noticing that Harry had slipped away close to an hour ago. The pair walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room giddy; bravely, Ron dared to take Hermione's hand, and was delirious when she accepted it.

Ron and Hermione paused on the landing between the staircases leading to each dormitory.

"I had a great time," Hermione sighed happily. "Thank you, Ron. It was perfect."

"Yeah, except for that slimy git Viktor Krum glaring at us all night."

Once again, Hermione bit her lip. Decisively, she chose to tell Ron the truth. "I suppose that's my fault."

Ron ogled at her. "How do you reckon?"

"Viktor... asked me to the Ball not five minutes after you did. I turned him down."

Ron gaped, nearly falling over. "You turned down a Triwizard Champion and international Quidditch celebrity... for _me_?" The last came out in a whisper, not quite daring to believe it, despite the proof that she had just spent an entire evening with him as his date.

Hermione blinked, gazing at him as if the answer was obvious. "... I love you," she confessed in a quiet murmur.

Ron looked as ripe as a tomato. Heart in her throat, wondering if she had said too much, agonizing over whether or not he returned her love, Hermione made to peck his cheek and flee upstairs to bed. But as she leaned in...

Ron suddenly cupped Hermione's face in his hands and kissed her wildly, squarely on the lips.

Hermione gasped with surprise, and then whimpered, into Ron's mouth. After a moment, two, they broke apart.

Hermione looked positively thunderstruck. She was soaring, euphoric. She had dreamed about how Ron might kiss her for the first time, and this - _this_ was better than all of her fantasies.

Ron smiled shyly. "Thank you," he hissed with gratitude. "You have no idea how much it means to me, that you chose me over him. That you wanted me."

Hermione smiled sweetly, her eyes full of adoring love. "Oh, Ron... I still want you." And bracing her hands on his shoulders, she stood on her tiptoes and softly kissed him back.

Instantly, Ron deepened the kiss, parting Hermione's lips with his tongue. She purred in encouragement. "Hmmmm..." Emboldened, Ron wound his arms about her and swept Hermione into a full-blown dip, and she felt his mouth tickle as she giggled. Hermione closed her eyes in pleasure and surrendered herself to the kiss, to her love for this man...

After several sunlit days, she felt her body being righted again, and she and Ron reluctantly broke the kiss at last. Ron appeared as though he had been hit in the back of the head with a Bludger.

"Hermione... I want to see you again," he got out passionately.

Her eyes twinkled, and she laughed. "We see each other every day, silly."

"No, I mean... on a date. Like Hogsmeade, some weekend." Ron cleared his throat. "Hermione Granger, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

Hermione's heart stopped. She gulped. "Ronald," she replied slowly. "Please kiss me again so I know I'm not dreaming."

Beaming, Ron took Hermione in his arms and kissed her once more. Hermione's hands disappeared into the tendrils of his red hair and she yanked Ron closer with a low, shuddering groan. "Yes," she whispered into his mouth. "I would love to be your girlfriend, Ronald Weasley."

They broke apart, smiling. "Goodnight," Hermione murmured softly.

"Goodnight, Hermione." Ron turned for the stairs, but her hand on his stopped him.

"One last thing," Hermione asked. She had to know. "How did you know that roses are my favorite flower?"

Ron shrugged, smirking. "Simple. I asked Harry."

Hermione chuckled, beaming. "I love you," she purred quietly. "More than I've ever loved anyone."

"I know," Ron grinned. "I love you too, beautiful girl."

And he watched as Hermione floated up the stairs to her room in a lovesick tizzy, blowing him a kiss before she disappeared.


End file.
